


Whatever We're Doing Here, I Approve

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Seduction, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 10:47:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: Eliot and Hardison navigate the aftermath of a drunken one night stand with each other.





	Whatever We're Doing Here, I Approve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reallife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reallife/gifts).



> Went with something between prompts #2 and #3 for you - I hope you enjoy the results! Thank you for playing with us, and I hope we see you next year!

The first time had been on Eliot’s couch, half their clothes still in place and neither of them entirely sure how they’d ended up there. Of course, once Hardison had gotten his hand on Eliot’s cock and his tongue down the hitter’s throat, he’d pretty much stopped worrying about the why and started focusing entirely on the _fuck…yes…right there…_

Eliot would spend the next handful of days wondering how he’d never made the connection between fingers that could dance so gracefully across a keyboard and hands that could make him come so hard he’d nearly lost consciousness.

They didn’t talk about it though, and for the most part life returned to as normal as it ever got.

The night of Parker’s next book club outing, Hardison casually mentioned that he’d acquired a 4K Ultra print of Tombstone, and if Eliot wasn’t doing anything…

Determined not to read anything into the invitation, Eliot had offered to cook.

Somewhere between getting everything into Hardison’s kitchen and setting the steaks to sear, Eliot realized that the hacker had been watching him in that way that tended to set the hairs on the back of his neck at attention. “If you’ve got something to say…” he began, deliberately _not_ turning to look at the other man.

“What? Oh – no. Just wondering if there’s anything I can do to help?”

It was so transparent that Eliot felt a jolt of pleasure shiver through his gut. Somehow the idea that Hardison was as unsure what had happened as he was made it…better, somehow? It definitely felt for the first time since it happened that they were back on something approaching equal footing, and if Eliot happened to try something to reciprocate it might not be rejected out of hand.

When he could trust himself, Eliot turned to look at Hardison. “Set the table. This is not ‘trays in front of the television’ food I’m making here.”

As the hacker hurried to obey, Eliot turned his attention back to the food he was making; trying somewhat desperately to distract himself from the way his cock was starting to press uncomfortably against the inside of his jeans.  
***********************************  
 _He doesn’t hate you. Breathe man, breathe._ Hardison’s pulse was beating so hard and fast he was sure Eliot could hear it. _Just two friends having dinner…that’s all this is._

A sense memory hit him then: watching Eliot come in a thick, hot spill over his fist, back bowed against the couch, his mouth open in a completely soundless scream as his body spent itself. Hardison swallowed hard, closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing until he could move again without rattling the plates.

He hadn’t planned on being the aggressor. He definitely hadn’t planned on Eliot going to pieces like he had – not from one hand job from somebody whose experience in those matters was almost exclusively confined to his own bed and his own body.

Under the circumstances a less than graceful retreat, once they were both cleaned up, had been all he was capable of.

After a fitful night’s sleep and no communication from Eliot, he’d decided it was a fluke. One and done, something they’d never talk about again, and then suddenly Parker was reminding them about book club and the invitation to come over and watch his favorite movie on Hardison’s beyond state-of-the-art home theater system was tumbling out of his mouth.

And now here they were and he had even less idea what was going on – or worse, what he wanted to have going on. _Should we talk? We should talk._ But if there was anything that defined Eliot Spencer as a person, it was his lack of willingness to talk about his feelings.

_This is what going crazy feels like._

He was so lost in thought as he returned to the kitchen that Hardison completely missed Eliot stepping in on him. Between one breath and the next he went from everything being only slightly off-center to Eliot crowding him bodily into a corner of the kitchen. “Should have done this first,” the hitter growled, pressing into him full length and kissing him for all he was worth. “You’re going to make me ruin two perfectly good steaks.”  
***********************  
Sparks exploded in Eliot’s brain as he rocked his hips into Hardison and felt the slow, sweet drag of friction on his cock. It would have been so easy to take the meat off the fire, drop to his knees, and give the hacker the blow job of a lifetime.

Discipline won out. “Stop making it weird,” he ordered, pulling back from. “Eat, movie, and whatever else happens, happens.”

Dark eyes huge, Hardison still managed to nod.

He was obviously trying his best to navigate the decidedly uncharted waters they were in, and under the circumstances Eliot was willing to cut him a world of slack. _Not like this is easy for me either,_ he thought, checking the meat and finding it hovering on the edge of overdone. Swearing under his breath, he snatched the steaks off the fire and plated them.

 _God, we’re really going to do this,_ he thought, hands automatically moving through the motions of finishing the potatoes and assembling the salad, while the majority of his brain apparently decided to get started without him – treating him to a full on pornographic fantasy of peeling Hardison out of his clothes and actually paying attention this time.

“Beer?” Hardison asked.

The question caught Eliot off-guard; he did the math and couldn’t make the numbers work. “You mean we didn’t finish it all the other night?” Grabbing the plates, he turned to see Hardison holding a fresh six pack.

“I, uh, restocked,” the hacker admitted, looking slightly lost.

 _Ain’t we a pair,_ Eliot thought. Moving in on Hardison, he leaned up and kissed him again. “I’ll take one,” he said once he was finished – trying not to smile at the other man’s stunned expression.

When they were both seated, Eliot noticed that Hardison had both orange soda and a beer at his plate. “Decide, man,” he said, indicating the drinks. “You mix those and you’re going to end this night nothing but sick.”

Obviously embarrassed, Hardison hesitated for a second, then caught up the orange soda and went to return it to the refrigerator. As he came back to the table, Eliot caught him by the hand and pulled him up short. “Stop being Nate, okay?” he said, pitching his voice so that it was as soothing as possible. “Stop overthinking this.”

Tears – of frustration or embarrassment, Eliot couldn’t tell – were hovering at the corners of the hacker’s dark eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing, man, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

The raw truth of his words hit Eliot more deeply than he’d been prepared to deal with. “Ever stop to think that you’re not the only one that feels that way?” He swallowed hard. “Let’s just get through the next couple hours, okay?”

Nodding, Hardison managed to make it back to his chair.

Against all odds, dinner passed pleasantly enough. Eliot wasn’t used to taking responsibility for the conversation, so they had a couple of false starts before he hit on a topic Hardison was comfortable with. Once they had that, he was able to sit back, enjoy his food, and take some stock of the situation.

The attraction was mutual – that much was achingly obvious. Their fears seemed to be mutual as well. _If we can get out of our own way, there might be something real here._  
***********************************************  
Once he was able to distract himself from thoughts of Eliot naked on his couch, lost in pleasure, Hardison thoroughly enjoyed dinner. Nobody could work a steak like Eliot, and while they spent most of their time sniping at each other, when they did settle down for actual socialization Eliot was a damn good conversationalist who tended to know more about the things that interested Hardison than he ever would have expected.  
Once they were finished eating and dishes safely cleared to the kitchen, Hardison led the way into the ‘home theater’. “I haven’t had a chance to fire up the new player yet,” he admitted. “So this is going to be an adventure for…” He broke off as Eliot came up behind him – pulling him to a stop with hands on his hips.

“How about you get out of that shirt?” the hitter asked. “I want to see what you’re hiding under there while I’m sober enough to appreciate it this time.”

Swallowing back the ‘yes sir’ that almost fell out of his mouth, Hardison shrugged out of the flannel he’d been wearing open over a blue, close fitting t-shirt. The t-shirt went next; Hardison shivered as Eliot’s hands slid across his bare skin. “Eliot…” he whispered, but the hitter put his arms around Hardison’s waist and pulled him in close.

“If I don’t get my hands on your cock in the next couple of minutes,” Eliot murmured, his breath warm against Hardison’s back, “this is going to end badly for both of us.” He rocked his hips in tight against Hardison’s body, the swell of his hard-on pressing into the cleft of the hacker’s ass.

Not entirely sure what he was supposed to be doing, Hardison stayed pliant as Eliot’s nimble fingers undid his jeans and pushed his pants and underwear far enough out of the way to free his own erection. The hitter made a pleased sound, low in his throat. Hardison closed his eyes, swaying slightly as Eliot’s hand wrapped around his shaft and jacked him once… _twice_ … “Eliot…” he moaned, things beginning to tighten low in his body.

“Couch,” Eliot ordered, and suddenly Hardison was free to stumble forward. The two of them managed to make it to the large, wide sofa, Eliot losing his own shirt in the process. Hardison reached for his belt and his pants, but Eliot gently pushed his hands away. “You had your turn,” he reminded Hardison. “Mine now.”

Hardison didn’t know what he had been expecting, but when Eliot pushed his thighs apart, kneeling down between them, he almost lost every bit of control he had left. “God, yes, please,” he breathed as the hitter took him in one smooth, practiced swallow. Lips…tongue…heat and damp, with just a hint of teeth – Hardison closed his eyes again as the mingled sensations overwhelmed him, letting his head fall back against the couch.

He’d read about blow jobs before, but all the slash in the world was ill-equipped to prepare him for the real thing. And Eliot knew what he was doing too – every press of his tongue or caress of his lips seemed to tease out the most sensitive clusters of nerves resting just beneath the surface.

“Eliot…” he moaned again, groping blindly until he could caress Eliot’s head as it moved up and down. “God…I can’t…” He whimpered as the bloom of heat flaring across his skin faded, leaving a bout of shivering in its wake, only to be followed by another flash of heat. “I can’t…I can’t…”

Eliot chose that moment to growl; the vibration from the sound traveled through Hardison’s cock, pushing the swell of pleasure growing inside his body past all reason or control. His body spasmed, and then he cried out – back arching, hands scrabbling for something to hold onto as he came. Eliot finally grabbed his hands and held on tight, still focused on swallowing down every drop Hardison had to give.  
**************************  
When he was certain Hardison’s body had spent itself, Eliot let him go and sat back on his heels. Even completely wrecked, the hacker was a sight out of one of his more lustful fantasies – half dressed, half conscious, sprawled across the couch. A list of things he wanted to spend the rest of the night doing to the hacker began spooling out across his mind; drifting in a haze of lust, Eliot reached between his own thighs and took himself in hand.

Three or four good, hard, strokes were all it took to finish off the ache in his own body; breathing in short, harsh gasps, Eliot braced himself with his free hand as he came.

“That is never not going to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” As his senses slowly cleared, Eliot realized Hardison had been watching him. Their eyes met, and Eliot couldn’t help grinning weakly.

“I could say the same thing for you.”  
After a moment, Hardison gave a soft groan of effort, and pushed to his feet. He disappeared out of Eliot’s line of sight, only to return with a pair of towels – one of which he passed to the hitter. “I…um…want you to stay,” Hardison said as they cleaned themselves up. “The night, I mean.” He looked up again, and his dark eyes were once again soft and vulnerable. “With me.”

Despite what he’d been thinking just a few short moments ago, now that his brain wasn’t drunk on endorphins, Eliot was able to look at their situation in a more practical light. “I’m not running away,” Eliot said, reaching across to grip Hardison’s leg. “And I hear what you’re saying, but…” He swallowed hard again. “I have nightmares, Hardison. You understand what I’m saying? It makes spending the night with anybody difficult.”

The last time he’d actually fallen asleep in a stranger’s bed had been a young man back in Boston, shortly after the team had started making Nate’s crusade a regular thing. It had ended badly – Eliot had come awake screaming and flailing, and in his terrified stupor had broken the kid’s wrist.

The hacker was silent for a long moment, considering what Eliot had said. Finally, he shrugged. “Difficult doesn’t mean impossible. I’ll just have to make sure you’re too tired to dream.”

Based on what he’d seen already, Eliot decided there was no way he was going to pass up an invitation like that.


End file.
